Hey, promised I'd be working on this one some more!
Hope you enjoy and there's a little song fanfic component to this chapter of Irresistible by Fall Out Boys featuring Demi Lovato if you pick up on it ;)
As always R&R!
The familiar charm of russet brick soothed his coarse fingertips as Gambit peered about the corner of the local glitter and sweat-filled gentleman's club, his eyes narrowing on his prey as ivory and auburn tresses mingled clumsily into a high bun amidst fingerless boxing gloves. Even in the fervor of pursuit, he could never deny when he witnessed a beautiful woman and she was certainly stunning. The iridescence of her emerald eyes continuously harbored the fires of anguish beneath them. Gambit had to admit her eyes were by far his favorite physical attribute; they gleamed akin to lost treasure and breathed her unabridged story without uttering a word. Windows to the soul indeed, he smirked to himself.
Any respectable hunter could convey that the first step of success was surveillance, and Gambit was a commendable hunter. He peered into the agony and frustration washing over Rogue's face with every kick of the tattered punching bag. She had no release. Her past sins always nipping at her heels as a collage of moral individuals who seemed never to misbehave encircled her, she was not even afforded the most primitive of physical releases with her mutation and the wear and tear was unmistakable on her face. A physical release would have embraced an effortless solution for Gambit. If he could simply charm her and walk away, her stern voice would not pierce his thoughts in the dead of night. If he could just charm her and walk away the obsession would be there, yes, but it would be purely tangible, as he would never even waste the time to acquire her name let alone her thoughts… If he could merely charm her and walk away there would be no threat of unmasking his own sins for the reason that he would embody no desire to win over both her mind and body. Rogue was not an automatic win in this game he delighted in playing. That fact drove him to the brink of insanity and he wished he could do nothing more than forget her, nevertheless he could not and he became very aquatinted with that notion.
His thoughts turned sour, he wished not to ponder about who he was, what kind of man he was, and she had no right to do this to him! A low growl settled in his throat. As much as he desired her, he had a glimmer of animosity for her and the mirror she held up to his soul with no more than a flash of her overwhelming eyes. Well, to Gambit, life was a game, and this? This was just a different chapter of it. If she was capable of penetrating his cognizance all the way to its deepest, darkest reaches then he could do the same to her…
Let the games begin.
Beads of perspiration trickled down Rogue's porcelain skin as she concluded her rather distracted work out. Even the strenuous exercise and blaring punk rock was not enough to rid her of her earlier lamentations. Seeking cool relief, she snapped her soaking charcoal tank hard against her exposed skin and was met with disappointment. Her mind reeled with thoughts of what could and should be. 'Y'could be the one lookin' out f'r him. Fat lot of good that'll do him though, y'can barely keep y'rself together.' An enraged sob ripped through her body, even thoughts of him seemed to set her temples ablaze with guilt.
Unbeknownst to her, the man who plagued her very existence had stolen his way through the backdoor letting the scent of Cajun spice and cigarettes dance about and encapsulate Rogue's weary physique. Tasting the potent spice twirling in the air before she ever glimpsed Gambit, Rogue was under the impression she had gone mad. She was sorely reminded otherwise when a looming shadow drew from behind her punching bag, scrapping his staff along the tiled floor for added effect. "Y'r such an unhappy girl," he crooned with a hint of malice in his suave voice. The narrowing of his mystifying garnet eyes triggered every nerve ending in Rogue's figure to freeze, breath hitched. The immediate tension electrifying its way between them was unbearable in magnitude.
She narrowed her eyes in response, still unable to breathe. "Reusin' lahnes now, are we Gambit?" She hissed, although fondly remembering the steamy air that whipped about her on a train car to Louisiana. She remarked that his eyes were just as profound and equally unnerving as they had been when he challenged her to absorb him with a yank of her silken onyx gloves. The air stilled even though the tension kept mounting, as both seemed to be lost in happier memories of the other. "Or d'y'jus' use 'em so of'en y'forget which girl y'used it on?" Rogue's voice was now frosted with bitterness as she was wrenched from her recollections. She very nearly thought she perceived a wince of agony startle across Gambit's usually unyielding face at her scornfulness. However, his swift recovery denounced any more thoughts of that nature.
Rogue was beginning to swell in his mind, to take up a permanent residence, and for Gambit, that would not do. He discerned only one technique to be able to lurk in a woman's thoughts for the rest of her days, and that was seduction. Consequently, he endeavored to once again exploit the tricks of the trade on Rogue. "Jus' offerin' my concern, Cherie," he purred, attempting to procure complete control of the situation.
Rogue spat back fire in a brimming contest for dominance which electrified the air. Gambit remorsefully remarked that with the lack of Rogue's poison skin such trysts for dominance would be savagely pleasurable in the bedroom. "Don' bother." With every piercing glance of her emerald eyes she struggled to unnerve the unwavering man in front of her, despite the fact she could only stare for so long before his eyes started to affect her instead.
"I jus' followed y'r scent," he flashed a wicked grin, "y'could nev'r jus' follow mon smile, could you?"
A scowl arched her unadulterated lips as the thought of trailing that devilish smirk revealed the betrayal anyone who has trusted him has ultimately experienced. Her anger, however, was not yet to the boiling point of desiring to cut him to the bone and due to this fact she denounced another one of his habits she deplored. "Mah scent?" she scoffed offended. "It's y'r second hand smoke ev'rywhere that Ah'm breathing in." It was akin to breathing him in and even that level of intimacy frightened Rogue. Not even a flinch of grief shown across his rough visage, obviously she was not the first woman to abhor his smoking, merely the first for that reason which she was grateful he was ignorant of. Otherwise, she knew he would discover a way to exploit it to her downfall.
"It draws in d'femmes like you wouldn't believe," he was intentionally trying to slither under her skin. Unmistakably perceiving her ivory skin shudder and crawl, he simpered in success.
"Lahke moths getting' trapped in the lightbox," she whispered more to herself than him, and he had to admit he quite enjoyed the flattering metaphor until a sharp thought hissed to the forefront of his mind: he was Rogue's moth.
Unacceptable.
Gambit's stance immediately warped into that of a fighter. The malice he harbored for Rogue stronger than the allure at the moment. Teeth clenched, an echoing snarl settled on his chapped, worn lips at the very thought that she was still so embedded in his head. He simply could not come to terms with such knowledge. Not one to be vulnerable again, Rogue could
detect the tell-tale signs of battle even amidst the inky darkness that seeped through the private gym windows. Priming for war it appeared, horns could virtually be perceived roaring in the background.
Dilated pupils nearly eclipsing the crimson rings of his eyes in ferocity, Gambit menacingly leveled his staff at Rogue's heaving chest. "What? Can't face the truth?" she sparred, sending him over the edge. A blur of metal whirled itself about his body until swiftly colliding with the back of her ankles. Almost in shock as she battered the ground, Rogue realized the two of them had not engaged in a physical confrontation in some time now. However, it was only a matter of time with the amount of harassing they exchanged, both playful and serious. For them there were too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores.
Hastily tumbling bare feet above her dizzied head, Rogue took a crooked knee and hyper extended the other leg with a prompt flourish causing a blur of tanned leather and pink armor to clatter alongside her. "Ah'll take that as a no," she taunted, not quite sure what inspired such malevolence in her.
Lost in contemplation (a rookie mistake during a battle), Rogue did not take notice of the partially gloved hand snatching the dripping fabric of her tank and hurling her into the air, only to be plunged on to her back beside Gambit. Refusing to release his grip, Gambit gamboled on top of her. Drawing her torso up to his he clamored in a gruff voice, "Can you?"
The truth was a tricky concept when it came to Rogue. She spent most of her adolescence not knowing what it even was. However, Rogue did not exactly revoke Mystique's teachings when it came to truth in regards to her emotions. Perhaps she negated her passions for the reason that she considered anyone who expressed an interest in her deserved better, and by better she always meant touchable. Perhaps it truly was all the betrayal as an adolescent. Truth was the answer comprised both these reasonings and she too endeavored to evade their veracities.
Scrutinizing her emerald eyes darting about in transfixing contemplations, Gambit's expression softened although his fist remained a tight ball of damp fabrics. "No," she breathed, the word so heavy it could almost be seen drowning in the air. They paused as Gambit envied her for being able to admit it, even if it was without conviction. Her absent eyes lolled to greet his in a flurry of stupefaction. Each simultaneously desired to both confess to the other and yet stay mute.
"I… I tried," Gambit stuttered. Rogue's mind reeled with notions of what he might be alluding to, when she was sharply ripped from them by the continuation of his accented voice. "Tried t'say live an' let live. T'forget you an' y'r charms." Her expression held steadfast, however the same could not be said of Gambit. "But I can't! Not wit' you." The conviction stifled the air about them. The sheer power flowing through the words was enough to make a grown man shudder. He loomed his scarred torso over hers, a firm hand planted on each side of her frozen face. "I love d'way y'hurt me," slanting down he lightly brushed her cheek with his if only for a millisecond, enough to feel a sharp pain but not slip into the ether of unconsciousness, and whispered, "it's irresistible," obviously regaining his charisma. Hot breath pirouetted about her outer ear as an involuntary shiver burned through Rogue's physique. She absorbed just enough of him to discern how true his conviction really was, and the two sensations in concert quivered her very core. Naturally, Rogue did what she always had, her willowy hands thrusted Gambit with enough force to skid him across the cool tile and she ran.
With a dazed, devilish smirk curling his portly lips Gambit trailed her with his eyes chuckling, "Mi amour, I'm comin' fo' you an' I'm makin' war."
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